


Where The Wild Things Are

by taichara



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Cloud wants some fresh blood added to his project, does he?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



"I cannot believe that I let you talk me into this."

"Yeah, well, I can't believe you actually agreed, so that makes us even."

If Vincent glowered at his flip retort, Cloud had no idea; he was too busy hauling their gear out of the bike's saddleboxes and checking it over. Lariats, check. Nets, check. A round dozen different sorts of greens, check. Lunch for both for later (assuming Vincent bothered to eat), check. Assorted kibble, extra cure materia and the like, check. All good, then --

By the time Cloud's attention was back on his partner in potential chocobo madness, Vincent had finally dismounted from his perch on the souped-up Daytona's trailer and had stalked some few score paces closer to the grove Cloud had staked out as a likely target. The grim sniper was staring off into the trees, eyes shielded by that omnipresent gauntlet (did it come off, Cloud wondered idly). Curious, Cloud shouldered his kit and ambled over.

"See something interesting?"

Vincent tilted his head just enough to fix Cloud with an unblinking gaze, and Cloud was not remotely sure he trusted the ghost of a smirk that flickered into existence on the man's face.

"Motion. Your wild birds may be on this edge of the forest. Although I need to repeat myself: why go to all the trouble of capturing wild chocobo when you've bred or bought an entire stable of them?"

Cloud shrugged.

"Because that entire stable needs fresh blood before the chicks start to have three heads. Come on, then -- if you spotted a flock we can catch them out and bring a pair in before it gets too late or we attract too much attention."

"As you like."

Without further ado, Vincent loped towards the trees, his rifle seeming to materialize out of nowhere -- loaded with tranq darts this time. Dead chocobo weren't exactly useful (except for dinner), after all. For his own part, Cloud was armed only with materia, figuring that a sharpened surfboard was less than optimal this time around ...

... And oh, yes, there was motion alright. Rustling surrounded the pair the moment they moved more than ten paces past the treeline. But -- and Cloud swore to himself as he caught the glimmer of green pooling in the moss all around them -- those gleaming bloody-blue eyeshine did not belong to any chocobo that ever existed --

Scaly, feathery, slickly oily creatures burst through the trees, serrated beaks snapping wildly.   
They might have been chocobos once. They sure as hell weren't now.

Cloud swore and ignited his connection to the frost materia (not flames, oh god not flames); next to him Vincent _hissed_ and Cloud knew that rifle would be abandoned in a heartbeat for teeth and claws.

The beasts moved in, and the sun crept lower --


End file.
